Category: All True Scary Stories

For a bit of backstory, my family owns a small cottage on the shores of Loch Lomond in Scotland. Its a small dry stone cottage with a thatched roof , and was supposedly built at the end of the 1800s. Our favourite thing to do in the winter months is drive the three hours up there and sit in front of the fire and relax, but I dont think after what happened last time I went I’ll ever be able to sleep there in peace.

It was February 2018, the ‘beast from the east’ had been wreaking havoc on the whole of the UK for weeks, and snow was everywhere by the time we reached the cottage. The shores of the Loch were slightly frozen but it wasn’t cold enough yet for all the waters to freeze over.

Having been in the cottage for a few hours the darkness had completely enveloped the shore and a fine mist sat upon the icy waters of the Loch. My little brother wanted to go out and run around in the thick snow that was falling from the dark sky, so my mum made me go and make sure he didnt fall in the waters or get into any trouble.

Before I tell you my tale it’s important to tell you that I have a bit of a history with hitting things with vehicles. The front of my car used to be covered in dents from all the objects I’ve rammed. Many times have I plowed through boom barriers because the nosy boom barrier attendant refused to lift the barrier fast enough. These barriers are laughably fragile and my car could easily tear them down with only minor damage. Needless to say I have no scruples about ramming through anything that impeded my car. With that out of the way, let me tell you my tale.

The grocery store I work at, Tillmans market, organises a store wide vacation to various exotic locations every two years. This year my boss ricardo was able to snag a trip to the sunny caribbean shores of Nevis island. It might sound very unbelievable that a small grocery store would book an expensive trip for every member of the staff including interns who hand out free samples of products like me, but it is true. This is a true story, and that makes it all the more frightening, because it is very real and it all happened to me.

We were allowed to take one plus on the trip (that means that you can take one person with you not that you can take the mathematical symbol for additions with you). Since I am not married and don’t wish to get married to my current girlfriend I was planning on ignoring this option, sadly my dipshit cousin Dillian was able to blackmail me into taking him with me by forging fake evidence that I supposedly damaged his stupid car. I had no choice but to take him with me. Dillian is what you might call a “busta” in hood language. I can not stand him as he will often interrupt me when I’m impressing girls with my knowledge of tractor pulling. He’ll try to buy my beautiful babes drinks and steal my mojo, leaving my story of the short history of tractor pulling unfinished and me completely limp.

To this day, I haven’t told anyone this story. My loved ones all think that I had a decompression accident during a routine diving trip, but, heh, that couldn’t be any farther from the truth. I guess I should give you a little background before getting into the meat of the story.

I don’t dive anymore, but back when I was in Mormon Scouts, it was basically all I did. We even had an inside joke where they would call me “Holy Diver” in reference to the 1983 Dio song of the same name, it’s not like I was being bullied or anything, I quite liked the name and the song as well, since I still listen to it regularly to this day. Well, to get to the point, I had convinced our Scoutmaster that we should go camping near the shore of the Great Salt Lake, and even though he many times said no, saying it would be too dangerous, he eventually buckled, under the condition that I was not allowed to dive. Heh, at the time I had no idea what could be so dangerous about that lake, but now, I think I know better than anyone.

The bus ride to the campsite was uneventful, save for my best friend at the time throwing up. We all had a good laugh about it, but he seemed to be in genuine pain so we apologized for laughing and he had to be picked up by his mom’s boyfriend, since his mom didn’t have a driver’s license and his dad was at work in the tire factory. To this day, I still think about how he was the luckier one of the two of us, despite it not seeming like that was the case at the time.

Without bragging too much , my family are of aristocratic heritage, and my grandfather’s brother owns Chillingham Castle , a 15th Century castle in the North of England . We didn’t visit him too often , so when my parents and I visited him in the winter of 2015 I was ecstatic .The 4 hour drive from South to North was uneventful , but as we neared the driveway to the Castle things began to feel – strange . For those who don’t live in the UK , anytime after 4pm in winter is pitch black , and the castle, being set in the middle of the woods, didn’t help in comforting me . The leave-less trees set in the darkness conjured up strange shapes in my head , or at least I convinced myself it was the trees .

I knocked on the ancient oak front door to be greeted by the boney face of my Great Uncle Humphrey , or as he would always correct us ‘Sir Humphrey of Wakefield’ . He greeted us with warmth and took us to the dining room , where the chefs had prepared a hearty meal . Piles of sausages and pork , more than enough for the 4 people it was made for . Half an hour later , my stomach filled , so at around 11pm I retired to my bedroom . I wasn’t trusted to sleep on the 300 year old four posters so I was left in the guest apartment , something I was perfectly happy with as the drafts in the original rooms was unbearable , especially in sub zero temperatures. With my stomach filled I fell asleep quickly , but my slumber didn’t last all too long .

At around 2-3 am I awoke to see a flash of something , like a blue spark of electricity coming from the corner of the bedroom , behind the TV. I got out of bed and went to check behind it , out of fear of a huge fire starting , only to see a silhouette in the corridor , in-between the doors for my Mother and Great Uncle’s rooms. I rubbed my eyes in disbelief , expecting it to go away , but instead it remained , fixed in place . With my eyes cleared of sleep I could make it out to be a small boy , 6-7 years old , with almost a blue aura surrounding him . I took a step forward into the hallway, in the hopes of getting a better look at this entity , only for it to snap towards me , facing me front on . The boy’s face seemed to go from young and peachy to an old , wrinkled bag of flesh . This thing’s mouth opened inhumanly wide and sprinted towards me . I screamed and leaped to the side , only for the entity to glider through the wall I had just been stood in front of. My Great Uncle came straight out his room to see the reason for my screaming . Just as he exited his room a blue flash came from the wall the boy had run through , instead of acting in shock or surprise , Humphrey just sighed and smiled . I asked him what on earth that thing was , and he told me about ‘ The Blue Boy ‘ . When the castle had been renovated in the 1990s , workers found a hidden room behind the wall in front of my bedroom , only to find it full of the remains of a young boy , who was said to have been buried alive in the room . After discovering the bones , the workers sealed them back in the room as a sign of respect for the dead , which I think is the reason for the ongoing hauntings . My Great Uncle is practically friends with all the paranormal creatures that haunt the castle , I mean they’re his ancestors after all , and he sees them on a regular basis . After living there all his life I don’t think he really cares about them anymore , but that doesn’t help me from having the shit scared out of me everytime I see something.

This is a brief yet unsettling encounter that reminded me just how fucked up absolutely anyone out there could be. As a horror aficionado, I’ve become somewhat desensitized to the countless creepypastas or bad social media or deep web experiences, but this is real. It happened to me this morning.

I had recently come into possession of a new writing desk, and was no longer in need of my old one, despite it being in fairly good condition. I live in a small flat, so getting it gone as soon as possible was a priority space-wise. I decided to list it as ‘free’ in a local Facebook buy and sell groups, where I had made and dealt purchases in the past. Over time though, the group had become somewhat of a community notice board and it was not uncommon to encounter memes and people complaining about public transport, among other irrelevant posts and trolls.

Within minutes of uploading a picture I took from the website where I had originally purchased the desk, as my hallway where the desk was awkwardly placed was not ideal for good scale photos, I had received a comment. “Hey, how much do you want for this?”, asked a user named Rory. I was a little confused as I had stated in the post that it was free, but wasn’t too alarmed. “It’s free, just want it gone”, I replied. “Could you get a real picture? That one looks fake.” A little annoyed, but understanding of the request, I went into the hallway to take a half-arsed picture of it. My cat had decided to sit on it so she featured in the photo, so I added the witty comment, “cat not included”, in hopes to convince this guy to take away my unwanted furniture. “Can’t really tell from the pic. What kinda condition is it in?”. I sighed. I had described the areas of small wear and tear in the original post. Before I could retort with sarcasm, my co-worker jumped in to save me. “Dude it’s a free desk, take it or leave it lmao”. Rory went on to accuse me of being rude to him, and wasting his time. What a useless troll, I thought, and ignored his further comments claiming I was harassing him.

This is the story of how I started believing in the supernatural, cryptids in particular. Being a country boy from Tennessee growing up meant camping trips and four-wheeling with my father. One particular trip when I was probably around 9 or 10 we had gone on a four day trip in the blue ridge mountain area on some property that one of his friends owned.

I remember it was heavily forested, nearly untouched except for a small plot where he had built a log cabin. We met at his cabin and set out on four wheelers to an area with a small stream that ran through a small flat area. We decided to set up our tents next to it and start a fire. We had brought enough supplies to use such as hotdogs, marshmallows and such for s’mores.

The plan was to fish, but not for food since I’ve always cared for animals it was always catch and release just for fun. after having eaten and talked around the fire for a while we decided to go to bed since we had a big day of four wheeling and fishing the next day. My dad and I shared a large tent with mesh openings to let in airflow and moonlight.

This is the story from when my younger sister and I were home alone one day. For some quick background information, we lived in a rural area in New Mexico, just outside a certain small mining town that was named for its silver. Our house sat in the middle of the forest and it wasn’t uncommon to see wildlife there, which will explain my thoughts later on in the story. At the time I was a 14 year old boy who didn’t like leaving home much, I was, and still am, very much an introvert after all. So, on the day my parents were eager to spend the night at a cabin and enjoy the hotsprings that were about an hour out of town for their anniversary, I made it clear that I’d be staying home instead with my then 12 year old sister. Let me just say that it wasn’t the first time we’d been left alone, after all, we did know how to take care of ourselves by then. Our parents trusted that we wouldn’t do anything stupid and so they packed up and loaded the car happily. We watched them drive away from the front at about 1:00 pm and then continued our day as usual. It was pretty normal at first, we just confined ourselves to our rooms as usual and entertained ourselves until night came around. I made nice dinner for the two of us then, steak, bread, broccoli, that kind of meal. We were in a great mood, having the house and getting the huge t.v. all to ourselves, it had us excited. We are both massive fans of anime, so we popped in a new dvd that I’d bought to watch on the big screen while we ate dinner. It seemed like the perfect night and we were satisfied. We sat there for several hours watching our show, it was about 11:00 pm when my sister began to feel uneasy. I told her that she was probably just uncomfortable being home alone without our parents and urged her to just keep watching, but the uneasiness only grew, in her and in myself. It wasn’t long before we heard clicking, not very loud clicking but we did hear it over the t.v. nonetheless. I turned the sound up in response to the annoying sound and we both tried to forget about it. We didn’t last more than half an episode when the sound grew even louder, it was more frantic now and I was irritated. My sister jabbed me in the side and stared at the garage door. ” Someone is trying to break in” she hissed at me, but I just told her that she was being paranoid, that it was probably just an animal that trapped itself in there and turned the sound up even more. At this point the t.v. was so loud that it would easily be heard from outside, yet the frantic clicking still got louder. Only when the last episode finished and the menu appeared on screen, playing it’s loud title screen music, did I look towards the garage door. The clicking had now become a banging sound and I could see that the handle was turning rapidly. My heart dropped into the pit of my stomach and I gazed in absolute horror at the door. I turned the sound down and the noise was incredibly loud, much louder than I initially thought. My sister remarked a quick “told you so” and began to check the other doors to ensure that they were also locked. I got off the couch and I instantly felt the harsh vibrations on the floor. I was in utter disbelief, the door was moving back and forth and I could hear the metal of the lock clashing against the door frame. The vibrations were so strong they travled several feet in my direction. I remember thinking that whatever was in the garage had to be massive and maybe not even human because there was no way that that door could be so close to breaking like that. It was quite a few inches thick and there were two steel locks on it. I was so scared of what was on the other side. I made the decision to retreat to my bedroom with all four of our cats and my sister in tow. I locked my door and called my father immediately. He instructed me to do three things, 1.) Get his revolver from his room 2.)Scream that we were calling police 3.) Let the dog outside and lock the door.

I did as told and retrieved the gun from his room. I then faced the door and yelled; this seemed to do worse, the attempt to get in was only made stronger by my announcement. I backed up and ran to grab the dog. We had a very intimidating dog, a large male dogue debordeaux, weighing well over one hundred pounds, If you’ve seen Turner and Hooch, that’s the dog. I let him out and waited for him to do something, anything; but nothing came from it, he stuck to the other side of the front door, shaking and whining in fear. If the enormous dog was scared then so was I! I let him in and returned to my room. Our parents had called the police but they would be a while. So we sat in silence on the carpet, waiting for our parents or the police. The noises did eventually halt around 1:00 am and our parents arrived home. I passed out after that and when morning came, I felt sick when I learned something. My father had checked the garage over that day, it was empty of anyone, leaving only a wonky lock as evidence; but that’s not the part that terrified me. The thing that made me petrified was that everything was there. There was no missing items, despite the large quantity of expensive tools and foreign artifacts, the culprit took nothing. Which means, the thing outside was here for us, and that is something I’ll never forget. I’m not sure if it was a massive person or some kind of monster but whatever it was, it wanted to harm us and I have always checked my doors ever since.

I stood on the dock, listening to the chanting voices that came from the lake. They wavered and were drawn out. “Ceelok” . They rasped. Dark shapes circled the dock. They continued moaning. And then, they stopped. The lake creatures were gone. I looked down at the dock and saw a round pale almost greenish face staring up at me. It’s pale arms rested on the dock posts. It’s face was featureless except for the black scars that were it’s eyes. It cocked its head and watched me intently. I ran. I ran off the dock and into the forest. I squatted behind a rock and peered over at the black lake. The fog glowed in the darkness of the night. The water rippled as the creature swam towards the shore. Silently it emerged from lake, giving me a view of it’s body. It’s frail torso and legs were covered in black reeds. Pale dirty freakishly long arms ended in webbed bony hands. The creature was soon joined by many others exactly like it. They crept out onto the shore one by one and wandered deeper and deeper into the at moaning. “Ceelok” . I ducked behind the rock and tried to control my breathing. I heard footsteps nearing me. They were getting closer. The moaning had stopped now. I felt a shadow upon me. They had found me. I darted into the forest again and didn’t stop until I reached home. A few years later I was taking a night walk along the lake. The fog was heavy on the lake, just like the day I saw the creatures. After an hour or so I noticed a dark shape floating towards me from the fog. It was a small wooden fishing boat, and was lined with claw marks. I the cake to realize that I was being watched by a white face partly submerged in the middle of the reeds. I never went back to the lake.

Three years ago while I was working and staying at a farm in Upstate, New York, I had a scary encounter with some type of strange being. The farm I worked at was located in a beautiful valley between two densely forested mountains, which also had a stream that flowed into a small lake from a reservoir about 3 miles up the road. Every so often after a long day working, I would stroll down to the lake and relax as the sun went down. The water was usually beautiful, and sometimes in the evening as the cold mountain air moved in, would create this spectacular fog that floated right above the water. Watching this beautiful scene while I sat on an old beach chair would take the stress of work away and rejuvenate me for the following day.

One evening, I decided to stay out for a little while longer and built a bonfire. A thunderstorm had rolled through the area a few hours earlier, so it was pretty difficult getting one started, but I finally did. I sat there for an hour gazing at the embers and listening to the crackling sounds, and everything was peaceful and quiet. Anyone who lives or spent time Upstate during the summer could testify to its natural beauty and wonder.

Anyway, it was time for me to get back home and go to sleep, so I began making my way up the path that ran alongside the lake. There was a right turn at the end of it and a climb up a tiny hill which led to where I was staying. There were also many rounded stones on the floor, so I would use my phone-light to guide me so I wouldn’t trip and fall. I was almost at the turn, when suddenly, I heard this loud splash. I heard sounds that came from the water before, but it was usually just a beaver that is gathering material for it’s beaver dam. But this splash, man it was loud. So I stopped where I was and turned my flashlight toward the water to investigate.

1. it was completely dark and 2. The sound of dogs barking. Not just little yap yap dogs but big, rip-your-head off Alsatians or the like – and they were mad.

Suddenly a door slammed open and a light flicked on. A Doberman and an Alsatian, which were barely being restrained by a man, all tumbled in to the confined space that I’d ‘woken up’ in. I was in a store room underneath a stairway, exactly like Harry Potter’s bedroom, typical in English homes.

The dogs were going crazy like they’d caught an intruder and the man had a mixed look of incredulous disbelief, fear and what the fuck! I knew he could see me, well an outline of me anyway.